I feel the same dread and happiness each time we meet. You come through that door looking all bright and shiny like a new penny. You tell me how much you missed me and asked for the kids. I bring them to you so you can try to be that pretty aunt who lived far away and comes to visit once a year or so.
You harp about how everything is a mess in your life and I can only be the friend you have always known, caring and understanding. I give you some advice, which you always ignore. All the while, I am secretly happy you are suffering. I am also secretly envious of that kind of suffering.
The kind that only involves dating, paying the bills, work and shitty relationships of your uptown friends. For just a day, I would give up just a day to trade places with you.
My life has not been the same since you left. I married my college sweetheart, promptly had kids and worked in a boring job that is convenient to make me your typical homemaker. While you were out partying at 3am, I was awake nursing my babies. While you go out of town to hit the beach and get a tan, I watch over my kids coz the nanny is on her day off. While you cry over a heartbreak and then get back on dating and meeting new men, I can only keep it all inside when my husband strays once in a while. While you wonder should you leave your job and just travel, you don’t know how often I wished I could leave my job and my lecherous boss who keeps trying to hit on me.
Then you tell me how lucky I am that I’m me. How much you envy my world. Sometimes, we don’t really get what we want and there is a reason for this. Maybe, you are not meant to be a housewife. Maybe, you were meant for some other things. Greater things. Bigger things. Things I would never know. Things I would never get to experience. This is why I’m glad we are still friends. Even after all this time, even after all things unsaid, you make me see the rest of the world through your eyes.